Sketch Dump
by Haykatsi0o
Summary: A series of unrelated, one-page-or-less vignettes. Some are quite old. Most of them are sort of silly. So far: the battle of the rightys and leftys, sleeping Neils, interesting underwear, and Jeffery!
1. Bothersome Lefty

**Bothersome Lefty **

Neil, as always, had shown up late for dinner. He slid into the only place available on the bench, which was next to Todd, immediately reaching for the food and digging in with gusto. Normally this wouldn't have bothered Todd, but normally he sat across from Neil, and not next to him, and normally the arm he ate with wasn't being jostled by his bench-mates. Neil, a lefty, was used to this kind of thing and so wasn't bothered by it. This being an abnormal situation, Todd was, in fact, quite bothered.

"Neil."

Neil stopped, fork still in his mouth, and looked over at his roommate. "Hmm?"

"Move," Todd said bluntly.

Neil swallowed. "Why?"

Todd poked Neil's arm. "You're bumping me. Stop it." His tone was not unfriendly. In fact, there was the subtlest of smiles on his lips. Neil looked down at his arm and then back up at Todd, smiling impishly.

"No. Don't think I will." When Todd frowned, cocking an eyebrow, he continued. "How about you move?" Now he was just being difficult, they both knew.

"I was here first."

"Well I'm not moving."

They both looked at each other, eyebrows raised, straining to keep straight faces. Neil shoved his shoulder into Todd's, but Todd shoved right back. It seemed they had reached a stalemate. Hopefully they weren't stubborn enough to go without food.

* * *

_I wrote this because I can't get enough of the fact that Neil is a lefty, because I'm a lefty too!! We're like lefty twins or somethin'! I'm such a fangirl..._

_I DO think Neil and Todd WOULD interact this way and I WILL defend why I think so!_


	2. Warm

**Warm **

The lights were off and Neil and Todd's room was lit only by the light of the sunset floating through the rickety window.

When Todd came back from his shower, he found Neil stretched out on his roommate's bed, half asleep. Neil rarely slept in his own bed, but Todd didn't mind the almost nightly invasion. The sandy haired boy climbed carefully into bed with his best friend. Neil was sleeping lightly, the orange glow of the setting sun playing gently on his features, softly articulating the red that went otherwise unseen in the dark brown hair.

Todd settled easily into the shape of Neil's body. For someone so thin, he was an oddly comfortable pillow. Neil was lying on his back, so Todd rolled onto his side, allowing his head to rest on the other boy's shoulder, adjusting himself so that his nose and cheek lay in the crook of Neil's neck, on the skin left bare by the wide neck of his sweater. Todd breathed deeply, taking in Neil's sent, the humid smell of clean skin. A deep, living warmth radiated from him and Todd gladly soaked it in.

There's a certain feeling of security that one has when pressed up against a friend, and one rarely finds a friendship where such an action is allowed. Todd adjusted himself so that his arm draped lazily across Neil's waist and could feel the soft rise and fall of the subtle workings of the sleeping body.

* * *

_This one is just a fragment, a few months old. I was just sort of practicing description of appearance, touch and smell. Inspired entirely by that scene where Neil uses Todd as an arm rest._

_This scene is pretty much real life for me, with my two closest friends._


	3. Boxers, Briefs or ?

**Boxers, Briefs or ?? **

The state of the student lounge had been a relatively peaceful one until Neil and Charlie had come traipsing in, locked in the most unexpected of arguments.

"Mine are better," Charlie was saying haughtily.

"No, they're just tacky!" Neil snapped back.

"And by 'no' you mean yours are better."

"Of course!"

Knox, Meeks, Todd, Pitts and Cameron, among a number of other boys, surveyed the scene with not a little perplexity.

"Well!" Charlie huffed, feigning hurt feelings. At about this point he seemed to notice the twenty or so other boys in the room. "How about we let them decide?" he said, grinning mischievously at Neil and gesturing at the room in general.

"Sure, why not!" said Neil without hesitating. The others exchanged curious glances, eyes immediately returning to Charlie as he addressed them loudly.

"Alright, cats! Now, Neil here and I have had a bit of a disagreement that maybe you all can help sort out. Y'see, this odd ball has some kind of problem with my choice in underwear, says they're tacky, and he seems to think he's got better taste. I don't believe him. Would you guys mind settling the score for us?"

There was a moment of silent confusion as everyone processed this new development, and then Knox and Pitts started a cheer of raucous approval.

Neil nodded good-humouredly at Charlie, as if they'd just set up a study group. They both un-tucked their shirts, undid their belts, and together, unblushingly, pulled their pants down to their knees. There was an unholy uproar of laughter, catcalls, and even a few wolf-whistles.

Charlie was proudly sporting a pair of leopard-print Jockey Skants, and Neil, with equal confidence, a pair of red tricot briefs. Charlie crossed his arms over his chest with an air of someone who is sure that a judgment in his favor is being made. Neil just put his hands on his hips and grinned unabashedly.

* * *

_A CRACKFIC! Well, it was bound to happen. Inspired by an interaction with one of my oldest friends. I get the impression that Neil and Charlie have been friends for quite a while. Okay, when I set out to write this I did NOT intend for Neil and Charlie to flash like half the school! It just…happened that way. HAA! And that, HeadinTheClouds13, is how Neil Perry got detention! _

_It's sad how much time I devoted to thinking about what kind of underwear Neil and Charlie wear. Charlie was easy; just pick something outrageous—FYI, Skants where the proto-bikini underwear. As for Neil, I know there where boxers in the '50s, but Neil strikes me as more of a briefs kinda guy._

_NEIL IS DOING THE SUPER WILSON POSE!!_


	4. The Other Anderson

**The Other Anderson**

A twelve year old Neil Perry wandered the halls of the Welton dormitories. The opening ceremonies of the school year had ended a good half hour ago, but he had been kept back by his parents, who had insisted on him personally meeting Mr. Nolan. He'd made a good enough impression, answering the headmaster's questions readily and shaking his hand firmly like his father had taught him. However, when they'd finally let him go, the other seventh graders had already made their way to the dorms. A new student and on his own, he'd gotten lost.

His eyes constantly moving from paper in his hand with his room number on it to the doors he was passing he was having a job of juggling his bag. Where most children his age would begin to feel unease, Neil was merely frustrated. The newness of the school was only a momentary inconvenience really, and he was sure to be over it within hours.

After a few more fruitless minutes of searching he approached the first person he came to. The boy looked to be older than Neil, if anything for the fact that he seemed familiar with the school. At any rate he looked like he knew where he was going.

"Hey, I'm sort of lost," he said, walking confidently over to the older boy, smiling brashly, his age brining him no shyness or lack of buoyancy. "Do you think you could show me where…" his sentence trailed off as he held up the paper.

"Yeah, of course," said the older boy, taking the paper from him and looking at it. Neil studied him briefly as he glanced over the paper. He was about half a head taller than Neil was, with short-cropped brown hair. He was at the age where his shoulders were beginning to broaden, his cheeks beginning to hollow. His eyes where dark, maybe brown.

"Oh. Your problem is you've gone a floor too high. Just check the hall downstairs and you should be fine." He raised an eyebrow, looking back up at Neil. "Seventh grade, eh? I remember my first year at Helton."

Neil grinned. "Is it all it's cracked up to be?" The older boy shrugged.

"It's hard work." He gave Neil appraising look. "I think you'll be fine, though," he said smiling.

"Well, thanks for your help," said Neil. There was a beat and then he extended his hand. "Neil Perry."

The older boy grinned at the younger boy's forwardness and shook Neil's hand.

"Jeffery Anderson."

* * *

_Yes, everyone, Todd's older brother! I've been wanting to write this for **MONTHS**._

_Jeffery is more confident than Todd, more outgoing. I got the impression from Neil's "Oh, so you're THAT Anderson" that he ACTUALLY knew Jeff. I REALLY wanted those two to be friends. I imagine they'd just say hi when they saw each other in the halls and that Neil took his questions about school life and whatnot to Jeff in the first months of school, but I don't think they'd necessarily go out of their way to hang out. Maybe play soccer. Maybe at some point in passing Jeff would mention that he has a brother Neil's age _

_I hope Neil's personality in this both fits the Neil we know from the movie and is plausible for a 12-year old… He was sort of difficult to write for here. This type of character analysis is SO fun! I've got a longer version of this, if anyone's interested in me posting it on its own. _


	5. If I'd Had To Say Goodbye

_Warning: This hasn't been proofread. It's a little stupid. I haven't been in a good mood. This is an alternate version of the events immediately after the play._

_Also, whoever sent me the note asking WHY Neil would be bottom bitch, please comment or send another note. I've got a (long-winded) answer for you, but I've lost track of all of my emails (I've been doing a lot of traveling and everything's been building up.) _

* * *

**If I'd Had To Say Goodbye **

Neil felt lost in the crowd. He couldn't make his eyes focus so the peoples' faces blurred as he allowed himself to be dragged on by his father. The praising voices barely penetrated his consciousness and he could only dimly feel his father's grip on his arm. Neil could tell that he was in deep trouble, and this innovative feeling frightened and disturbed him. He felt like a trapped animal: weak and defenseless. He'd never felt this way before and was still trying to figure out how to deal with it.

"Neil!"

Neil automatically looked around at the sound of his name and the distinctly familiar voice. Todd was working his way through the crowd. He was smiling.

"Neil!" He had managed to get himself close enough to Neil that he could touch him, reaching out and catching the free sleeve of his jacket. Neil was about to say something—that he was in no mood to talk, that he couldn't handle seeing one of this closest friends at a time like this—when he was jerked forward by his father.

"You come with me." Neil blankly began to follow, but Todd's grip on his other arm tightened.

"Neil, you were amazing!" He was beaming at him. This particular smile was unfamiliar to Neil, at least on Todd's lips. There he saw pride, and affection.

"Todd, I—"

By now they had reached the main entrance and Neil was cut off as his father practically dragged him down the steps. His father was talking to Mr. Keating. He was being pushed toward the car. He got in. His mind was incapable of doing anything other than obeying.

He looked out the car window and, despite the flurry of activity outside, saw nothing but the look of confusion and worry on Todd's face.

* * *

Neil sat at the desk, considering the gun in his hands. He remembered a smiling face in an otherwise anonymous crowd. A smile that, once so rare, was appearing more and more each day. He remembered the confused face on the other side of the window. What would happen to Todd?

Todd deserved an explanation—a reason for why Neil had done it. But who would be there to give it to him? Nobody other than Neil himself would put it right, deliver the message correctly. But delivering it himself would mean saying goodbye.

He put the gun down. He wasn't going to leave if he'd have to say goodbye.

* * *

_When I was performing in the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, one of the MANY shows that I saw in my free time was Spring's Awakening, the play version of Spring Awakening, the musical. This entire piece is based on a quote from that BRILLIANT script. During his UBERLONG suicide monologue, Moritz says "I wouldn't leave if I'd had to say goodbye." _

_At the end Moritz shows regret for committing suicide and also how much he misses his friend Melchior. I got SO upset. All I could think of was Neil, and how much he'd regret killing himself and how much he'd miss Todd. I wrote this to make myself feel better. Neil is REALLY out of character in this. Sorry. It's not exactly the best writing I've ever done. Written (by hand—with no thesaurus) in my dorm room in Scotland at somewhere around midnight. _


	6. Juice and Clinging

**Juice and Clinging **

It was spring break, and Todd had wandered into the kitchen somewhere around noon. It wasn't until he'd gone into the fridge, pulled out the orange juice, and taken out a glass that he noticed Jeffery sitting at the table.

"Morning," said the older Anderson, glancing up from his morning paper.

"Morning..." Todd mumbled, unscrewing the cap from the orange juice. There was a few moments of silence, broken only by the sound of the juice pouring into the glass.

"Hey, where did you get that sweatshirt?" Jeffery asked suddenly. Todd looked down at himself. He was wearing a light gray Welton hoodie. "Did I give it to you? I don't think I remember ever having one of those." Todd faltered momentarily, the glass at his lips.

"It's my roommate's," he said, flatly, quietly.

He picked up the gallon jug of orange juice and took it and his glass up to his room, careful to keep his head turned slightly as he passed his brother so that he couldn't see his face.

* * *

_This one is sort of sad. I like to think that Neil is still alive here (AU!)...but judging by how Todd is acting here...I kind of doubt he is...Poor kid._

_Based on a conversation I was having with HeadinTheClouds13 about who that Welton hoodie that Todd is wearing in soccer practice really belongs to. Is it really his (a hand-me-down from Jeff) or did he borrow it from Neil? (Also, I thought of this scene while I was pouring orange juice. :) ) Todd takes the whole jug upstairs because Cloudy and I have also decided that Todd has an...orange juice addiction.  
_


	7. Wasteland and Apology

I'm really putting myself out there, posting this. (I might take it down. I don't know if I want you all reading it.) I almost never write poetry, because, honestly, I suck at it. I only wrote this because I had to for school. I had to write a poem in a limited amount of time, and I just couldn't get this out of my head.

This is a villanelle-type-thing. It's the same basic structure, minus the rhyme scheme. (If you don't understand, just Google 'villanelle'.) I think the fact that you all know who the speaker is and who they're speaking to both enhances the poem and cheapens it...So, obviously, this is Neil talking to Todd, apologizing for his suicide. Um. Honestly? I cried the entire time I wrote this. I don't think it's all that good (I'm not a poet), but well...those two just upset me so much...

EDIT: I added the 'Wasteland' bit just now because I felt like posting something, but it doesn't really stand on its own. I actually wrote that bit on March 10th of this year. (A LONG time ago.) In my English class we were studying modernism at that time, and more specifically, T.S. Eliot. We read his (epically confusing) poem, The Wasteland, which, in case you didn't know, is basically just a jumble of literary references, all smashed into one comment on the isolation of man. Our project for that unit was to write our own Wasteland on the salvation of man. This was just a stanza from my project and the literary reference here is Todd. My Wasteland essentially went through the mourning process, and this section was supposed to be about the initial shock of learning about the death of a loved one. The choppy words ('It was beau-ti-ful. Day...He was tall and extremely good looking...Remem- remem- Remem- Remem-ber remem-ber') are direct quotations from the song 'On the Transmigration of Souls' by John Adams, which is about the horror felt by those left behind after September 11th.

SO. Two separate poems in one chapter. The first is from Todd's point of view, and the second, written MONTHS later, is from Neil's. (ALSO, I edited the Apology poem a lot...)

* * *

**Wasteland **

It was beau-ti-ful. Day.

.

"He was tall and extremely good looking."

.

I was awoken and I was put

into a box. Dark and lonely in there.

The sky was shrouded where I was

Beautiful as I looked through the window

that wonderful deep-sea monster

And then the blanket was torn away

snow melting on my body as I am eroded away

into the world

It's time to wake up.

.

Remem- remem-

Remem-

Remem-ber remem-ber

.

.

.

.

**Belated Apology in the Winter of '59**

Turn, turn from the patience of your crippling self-loathing.

Let's echo the emergencies of the wild warbling throstle

And make ourselves look up.

.

Compared to you, I am as articulate as carrion. From the tight

Reluctance of the thicket in you, poetry flutters on startled bird wings, so

Turn, turn from the patience of your crippling self-loathing.

.

You're the best friend I've had in this pathetic, tiny life.

Together you and I can laugh at the world and its traditions,

And make ourselves look up,

.

But it's not the same alone. You have been denied

The explanation that you, above all others are owed. Please

Turn. Turn from the patience of your crippling self-loathing,

.

And make the guilt weigh less heavy on me. I wish I could lift you above that

Turbulence in the snow – help you see my logic. We'd both understand

And somehow make ourselves look up.

.

Somehow, both be able to look up – no more of this living

In quiet desperation – for me,

Turn from the fragility of your once crippling self-loathing,

And make yourself look up.


	8. Stir Crazy

**Stir Crazy or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My Psychotic Roommate  
**

As Todd made his way down the hall to his dorm room, he wondered vaguely what had happened to Neil. The two of them, along with Charlie, Cameron and Meeks had been (attempting) to study for their upcoming History exam, and had failed miserably. The group's focus had begun to erode when Neil's bad mood had finally gotten the better of him and he'd stalked restlessly from the room. It had been raining – more like spitting – for weeks, and the boys had been cooped up inside for practically the entire duration. Neil had long since gone stir crazy. Without their usual center point directing their attention, the group had quickly disintegrated and they had all eventually wandered resignedly off to do their own studying.

Todd had assumed that Neil had just gone back to their room, and so was mildly confused when he'd stepped inside and found it empty. However, as soon as he'd crossed the threshold...

"TODD!!!" Todd jerked violently when he heard a squawk from somewhere above his head. As he caught himself intelligently on his desk, he saw Neil, curled up on top of his wardrobe. "TODD!!! GET OFF THE FLOOR!!!"

"Wha--?"

"IT'S MADE OF LAVA!!!" Neil screeched, flailing his legs out off the edge of the wardrobe. Ignoring Neil's apparent emergency, Todd turned slowly to fully face his roommate, and leaned back against his desk. He looked up at him incredulously, an eyebrow quirked.

"You're meeeeltiiiing!" Neil squeaked in his token falsetto. "Toooodd!" He rearranged himself awkwardly in the cramped space between the top of the wardrobe and the ceiling and stuck out his leg to kick in Todd's general direction. "Get off the floooor!"

Todd continued to eye Neil with a skeptic smile on his lips, well aware that there was already no way Neil's foot could reach him. He side-stepped over to his bed and sat on it as Neil continued to kick feebly at him. He made sure to keep his feet planted firmly on the ground.

When he saw that Todd was refusing to buy into it, Neil repositioned himself again so that he could stare round-eyed at his roommate over the edge of the wardrobe.

"Get off the flooooor," he stage whispered with no less intensity as he gripped the edge of his perch.

Todd simply raised his eyebrows at his roommate and pulled his notebook from his desk and opened it, his feet resolutely on the floor. He tried his hardest not to laugh, because he knew he'd get dragged into Neil's psychotic antics if he did. He hoped the sun would come out soon.

* * *

_1,000 Pitts Points (am I even allowed to award those!?!?) to anyone who gets the title of this chapter. (The full one.) _

_Seriously. The Floor is Made of Lava? BEST game to ever exist. My friends and I play it in the theater and the weight room at my school...It's especially fun in the weight room...especially if you're trying to _not_ let the teacher know what you're doing..._

_All I've been writing lately is just...crack. I think it's because my brain is melted. Anyway, this is part of the Epic Rant, and _that_ particular tangent came from Chapter 64 of Cloudy's 'How To...'__ I'm actually supposed to be studying for my History exam (which is tomorrow...) and it's actually been raining here for...forever, so....I'm sorry that this is like...excrement, because A. I haven't proof read it (I wrote it in like 10 minutes like a second ago) and B. My brain is FRIED! (EXAM WEEK!) I pretty much just did this to put off studying..._


	9. Revision

This is the revised version of what was originally the third chapter of Named For the Sunrise (my first ever post on here, which I still have up on here in one-shot form.) That's why it gets to tha smoochin' so fast. (It used to have 2 chapters of lead-up.) I deleted it because it sucked. Basically, Neil and Todd were originally both really OOC, which made me sad.

ANYWAY! Two years later, after doing some growing up, I feel like I understand the whole NeilxTodd relationship a little better. SO I've edited it and now they're more in character. If you haven't read Named For the Sunrise, this is set post-Sweaty-Toothed Madman. I STILL don't think this is presentable, but, well, I'm sick of having it sitting around my computer. :| For some reason I can NOT make this good. Posting it MIGHT help, because for some reason I can only fix my mistakes after everyone's read them anyway.

Fun Fact: Todd's history notes are quoted DIRECTLY from my 9th grade honors history notes. Even the Sophocles thing. XD

* * *

**Damn The Consequences**

Neil and Todd sat on Todd's bed, doing their history homework together. The late afternoon sun always fell on Todd's side of the room, and both boys gravitated towards the heavy light like moths.

"So…Pericles was the one who turned the Delian League into an Athenian empire…" Todd said, paging through his notebook.

"No, that was Lycurgus," Neil muttered idly, not looking up from his own notebook. Todd stopped flipping pages and cocked his head.

"What—no it wasn't! It was Pericles."

Neil looked up, furrowing his brow, the edge of his mouth turning up. "No, Lycurgus. The orator, right?"

Todd looked down at his notebook. "No, I'm looking at my notes right now. Pericles was 'An Athenian orator, statesman, and general. Turned the Delian League into an Athenian empire and led his countrymen in the first two years of the Peloponnesian war. Used the Delian League's funds to rebuild and glorify the Acropolis rather than use those funds to pay the citizens' taxes.'...Lycurgus was _also_ an orator, but well...obviously a different one."

Neil paused, taken aback. He leaned over Todd's shoulder, looking at the notes.

"Your notes also call Sophocles a 'creepy Athenian writer guy'…"

Todd grinned, bumping shoulders with Neil. "Hey, no, I'm right!" Neil sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. Todd started laughing. "Perfect Perry was wrong about something? I can't believe it!"

"Hey! I can be wrong!" Neil shoved Todd with his shoulder, aggressively, but still smiling.

Todd was still laughing. "Are you sick or something?"

Neil shoved him again. "Shut up!" Todd returned the shove, and soon the history books lay forgotten. The two boys grappled, laughing, jostling and swatting at each other playfully. Soon they'd lost track of their surroundings, and Todd accidentally pushed Neil too hard, nearly knocking him off the bed. Automatically, Neil grabbed onto Todd's leg to regain his balance.

They froze. The laughter died as they both stared at Neil's hand resting just above Todd's knee. For a moment, their muscles were as tense as the silence that had suddenly gripped the room. Slowly, Todd leaned back, moving his leg so that Neil's hand was further up his thigh. Neil shifted his weight so that he was leaning over his roommate. They stared, wide-eyed at each other.

Todd leaned forward at a snail's pace, his eyes never leaving Neil's. There was alarm in the typically sanguine brown. When Neil didn't make any move to retreat, however, Todd slowly brought his lips to Neil's, holding back so that they were barely touching. Neil's breath caught sharply in his throat. Somehow this irritated Todd. He pressed forward, insistently, parting his lips.

Neil finally backed away, but slowly. The look of wide-eyed panic had been controlled somewhat, but the trepidation was still evident in the dulled eyes and parted lips.

"I thought you said you were curious."

Neil was disquieted by Todd's clearly accusing tone. "I am…but..." He had to pause for a second to restart. "...I really do like you, but…the consequences would be….My father would kill me!" Todd raised an eyebrow, annoyed.

"Since when have you thought about the consequences? And didn't a 'creepy Athenian writer guy' once say 'One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life and that word is love.'?"

The word "love" seemed to resonate strangely, and for once, Neil was groping for something to say. It felt like an extremely strong word, even to an overly romantic and idealistic teenager. He had a feeling that Todd hadn't exactly meant to use that word specifically, that it had only come up for the sake of the quote, but the general sentiment had still made him think. He knew in the back of his mind that he might not even recognize love if he felt it. This whole incident was bringing out all sorts of new feelings for him. However, he also knew that whatever he was feeling for Todd was frightening in a way that he wasn't sure he wanted to live without.

He found himself defeated in a strangely innocuous way. For once he was at a loss for words, but Todd had the upper hand in that category anyway. The fact that Todd had the ability to make him wait his words – to make him think about thought itself – was why he was feeling this suddenly desperate need to kiss him. He decided he wouldn't worry.

After hesitating a moment, he lowered his head to Todd's in uncharacteristic submission. Cautiously, experimentally, he brought their lips together in a crude imitation of their last kiss. Neil wondered vaguely if Todd wasn't as new to this as he himself was. He, at least, seemed to know what to do with his teeth, unlike Neil.

Todd put a hand on Neil's shoulder and leaned backwards until his back was against the wall. Neil followed so as not to break the kiss, his hands on the bed on either side of Todd's hips. It was awkward, but neither of them seemed particularly bothered by it. Although the kisses remained relatively chaste, the connotations of the gesture had changed. In that one movement, it had become so much more involved.

Todd broke the kiss, but didn't pull away. He ran his lips along Neil's jawbone, kissing it softly, working his way down to his throat. Neil quivered as he felt Todd's lips marking a trail down his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, gripping Todd's shoulder and trying to come to terms with the new and jarringly sensual feeling. Todd's lips were almost cool compared to the heat of his breath against the bare skin of Neil's neck. Neil shivered involuntarily as excitement sent icy spasms surging through his entire body.

He moved to tuck his head into the crook of Todd's neck, but Todd turned his head and brought their lips together again. Neil kissed him a bit less carefully than before. He moved back, seating himself next to Todd, rather than practically on top of him as he had been before. Todd pressed forward gently, and Neil, willing to permit Todd to direct him, allowed himself to be pushed down onto the bed. Gradually becoming more confident, he began to return Todd's kisses with more verve. As in most things, he was a fast learner.

A kind of thick, heavy giddiness seemed to come over them as they fell into the mindless rhythm of kissing. Gradually, they allowed themselves to sink into a weighty daze, all consequences temporarily forgotten.

* * *

RANDOM NOTE: In the original draft of this, I had Neil worrying about the idea that the whole making out thing (and maybe the whole loving Todd thing) was a sin. I decided this was WAY out of character for Neil. I think he's too genuine to think about any kind of love being a sin. I kept the bit about him being worried about what his father thinks, though. That, imho, is perfectly in character. I don't even know where to begin about any of the Poets' religious views, because I don't particularly have any of my own, and have basically been allowed to formulate my own opinions by my parents (unlike the Poets.) I don't know how...indoctrinated...any of them are. However, I can't possibly imagine Neil believing that any kind of love can be viewed as wrong in God's eyes, because I think when Neil cares about someone, it's always genuine, agenda-less love. HE'S SUCH AN ADORABLE SWEETIE!

Anyway! Thoughts on that subject I just posed?


	10. The Throstle EXCERPT

Todd is tired and is about to allow himself to creep crouch-shouldered into the Dr. Hager's classroom when Neil mock-sidles blithely up to him and kind of uses his shoulder to nudge him off the course he's set towards the door.

"Hey!" he chirps. He takes Todd's books and stows them under his arm, resting them nonchalantly on his hip. It's then that Todd notices that Neil doesn't even have books with him. He's about to ask about this when Neil answers the question for him. "We're not going to math today." Instinctively, Todd looks around to make sure a teacher – or Cameron – didn't hear.

"What? Neil are you – "

"Todd have you even seen the weather? It's incredible!"

"Yeah but won't -" Neil fixes him with the look he usually saves for Pitts when he's being charmingly melodramatic.

"Todd. Come on. It's trig. I've got a Super A in that class and if you really need it I can catch you up on whatever we missed tonight.

Todd briefly considers telling Neil that, after watching him stumble through study session after study session with Cameron – ever the perfectionist, trying to unlock the difference between Neil's perfect scores and his not-quite-perfect ones – , he knows that, although Neil may have an uncanny talent for scoring hundreds on math examinations, he doesn't know actual math for shit. Being able to regurgitate formulas is completely different from comprehension, after all. He knows that if he allows himself to depend on Neil's tutoring, he'll fail the quiz for this unit he'll miss the lesson for. But when Neil grabs his hand so casually that nobody in the emptying hallway even notices, he suddenly doesn't care anymore.

It's like he'd been wearing a muddied yellow vail over his head that had just ceased to exist. The world is clear and Neil is leading him by the hand down the hall, and their gait winds itself steadily to a brisk, marcato trot. He finds himself watching Neil from behind as he practically jogs down the hall, his hand still firmly clasped around Todd's. For the first time he really notices that one unruly lock of hair on the top of Neil's head, flipping up and down up and down up and down as he lopes and bounces. At a double arm's-length he's at the perfect distance from his roommate to at last notice the smooth counter-swing of Neil's shoulders – firmly, solidly out and down with electric and carefree anticipation – with his lithe hips. The effect is a self-encapsulated rotation. For an instant Neil is a fluidly running, delicately contained dynamo. All Todd can see is the back of Neil's head and through that he can feel the pureness and baseness of an absolute animal focus. The small rebellion ahead of them has stripped Neil to the core and this side of him fascinates Todd. Nothing could ever make him look away.

And then for some reason Neil is reminded that Todd is there, that their hands are clasped together and there's a weight behind him. There's a brief moment when Neil begins to turn his head and Todd is terrified that somehow he's broken the spell. But then Neil looks at him and Todd's breath comes so full and rapid that his lungs expand down to their depths in a second in a stretch that feels glorious. Neil's eyes are like sunshine reflected through an oak's leaves onto clear water. They're so sharp as they crinkle with his open-mouthed smile and monosyllabic yap of laughter that Todd is sure his pupils have contracted at their brightness. Todd's presence hasn't snapped him back to school and the weight of his body behind the hand Neil is still gripping hasn't pulled him back down to earth. Rather, it's as if Todd's grasp is pumping a rushing wind into Neil that's sending him soaring over the trees with the flocks of songbirds they've been watching returning all week for the spring. And on the momentum of that one great gust Todd is swept up too.

He doesn't remember Neil stowing his books hastily in a dark corner by the door. All he knows is that he and Neil are suddenly bursting through with a thump of palms and scuffed leather uppers on dark wood, out into the open air and the sun flashes white in their eyes as they bolt out from under the awning of the covered walkway between the math wing and the main building. All he knows is that he and Neil are barreling down the hill towards the lake. Somewhere in the back of his head he cogitates briefly on how they're running far too fast for the angle of the hill. But their hips are rolling out to the sides with their speed and he can feel the motion hot in the muscles of his legs and Neil's hand is still grasped tightly in his and they're counterbalancing each other so perfectly that he isn't actually worried about falling anymore anyway. He knows that Neil is screaming at a pitch that's high and rough and that that other pitch vibrating almost musically with Neil's voice must be his own. They throw their battle cries into their head voices as they charge onward to the dock, and Todd can already feel the rawness in his throat but he knows the hurt is wonderful.

–

A/N: I _actually_ just wrote this a second ago. (Proofreading? PSHH! Don't need that ever.) It took about 45 minutes. I was on some kind of (superrare) writing high. I feel like this fandom needs a little life pumped into it, and I think this is alright, so I decided why not? Carpe diem, right?

Anyway, this just kind of came to me in the shower just now. Spring is springing here in Philly, and I REALLY need to shake off the winter, because it was really tough. (Blizzards are actually REALLY unpleasant when you live in the city...) I've been burried really deeply in the KurtxBlaine ship (from Glee) because I feel like they're the "actually gay" version of Neil and Todd. (The parallels are INSANE. Ryan Murphy totally owes Peter Weir royalties.) I feel like they're a more high-concept version of our Poet darlings, so I wanted to come back to my roots!

SO. This is from a HUGE long-form fanfiction I'm ACTUALLY WRITING called The Throstle. (This fandom needs more multi-chapter stories.) It's comin' slowly, but it's comin'. I'm not sure of the context of this scene yet in the whole thing, but it'll find its way in somehow. I'm kind of writing scenes as I think of them with the idea of fitting them together later. I've got a word doc on my computer that's like 12 pages of single-spaced drabble right now. It's gonna be a fix-it fic (Neil lives, because I CAN'T write springtime without him) and it WILL be NeilxTodd. A slow burn NeilxTodd. (It takes them a while to get together romantically.)

Read and Review, please! :) I will personally ask Cloudy to shower you in Pittspoints! 1,000 Pittspoints for every word in your review! (Haaa 'cause I can TOTALLY do that.)


	11. Third Party

_Just another little miscellaneous excerpt from my only-sort-of-being-written long form Anderperry fic, The Throstle. I just wanted to attempt Anderperry from another point of view for once. _

* * *

Charlie had noticed that there was something slightly weird in the way Neil treated Todd. Part of the weirdness was that there was a special way Neil treated his roommate even when he wasn't present. Whenever Neil mentioned Todd, even casually in passing – "My math notes aren't that good but you can ask Todd,"..."Oh, Todd definitely said something about that a couple nights ago..." – there was always that barely-more-than-invisible excited tensing of his neck and shoulders. It almost wasn't even there, and it was most certainly unintentional. An electric fondness always seemed to radiate involuntarily from Neil whenever he thought about his absent roommate. "Fondness" seemed like a perfectly benign emotion, and it made sense – Neil and Todd were definitely kindred spirits in a way – but it still made Charlie vaguely uncomfortable.

Neil and Charlie had been best friends since they'd started at Welton in the seventh grade. They'd been allies from the beginning, giving each other significant "I know! It's bullshit, right?" looks behind teachers' backs. But Neil only ever mussed Charlie's hair in moments of silliness and elation, or swatted affectionately at his shoulders when they were being goofy. He never sidled up to him and kicked gently at Charlie's feet to get his attention or leaned on him and peered at him with his head on Charlie's shoulder. Those kinds of things were reserved exclusively for Todd.

He'd witnessed Neil playing with a loose thread on Todd's sweater for an entire study session once. He'd noticed Neil sliding smoothly and melodramatically onto the bench next to Todd just to bump his left elbow with Todd's right as they ate, just to be a pest. He'd heard Neil's clear, bubbling laugh muffled in the shoulder of Todd's blazer when someone told a joke.

These were the moments that Charlie pretended not to notice.


	12. Like the Weather

**Regard It As Being Like the Weather**

Once they're comfortable with each other, Todd begins to just reach out and touch him. A lot of the time just on his shoulder or wrist. But sometimes when Neil's mind gets away from him, and he can't stop jumping from infinity to infinity in that devastatingly quick way only his mind allows, Todd will corner him, press him into a wall to contain him physically and mentally and just sort of hold Neil's head in his hands, pressing firmly but not hard into his cheeks and temples with his palms cupped.

A lot of the time later on he'll lean in and kiss him, if anything just to contain him more, and to almost give him an outlet, as if offering himself up as a waterway for the runoff of Neil's emotional deluge. He'll just kind of press himself gently into him until Neil settles down, stops buzzing and settles into Todd's shape. Usually when Neil capitulates, he'll wrap his arms around Todd's waist and pull him closer, but on really bad days he'll just tuck himself tightly into Todd's chest, arms pulled up and pressed between his own and Todd's pectorals and just let Todd create a shell for him.

Todd tries to make sure they do this standing up whenever it's possible, or sitting. He discovered the hard way that it's a horrible idea to pin Neil on his back. Something about that gets too claustrophobic. When he's standing, even if his back is against a wall or something solid, at least Neil has his feet on the ground and his own weight to his advantage.

Once, when Neil was lying on his bed, somehow simultaneously limp and almost visibly shaking with noxious vibrations, Todd had tried to roll him and scoop him up protectively and ended up with a bruise on his jaw that he later had to try to pass off as a lost fight with the corner of his desk. After a second, after he'd pulled back the spring release of his anxiety and realized how he'd lashed out, Neil had felt horrible and immediately scrambled over to where Todd had retreated to his own bed – more for Neil's benefit and surprise than any kind of fear. But Neil had immediately anchored himself back onto Todd, closing the distance right back up and grabbing onto the sleeve of Todd's sweater and murmuring hurried, injured apologies over and over, eyes wide and bright in a very un-Neil way. Todd had just shaken off the apologies, knowing they weren't necessary, would never be necessary, had made sure to make it clear with Neil.

So now Todd is always sure only to hold Neil together from four, rather than six sides of the box, to enclose, rather than envelop. He creates a sort of corral for this juddering form, at the worst of it always emanating this nauseatingly ominous _something. _A body gone nuclear in its crushing crippling grief for his loss-through-inability-to-have everything at once. This way, he's found, he can always get Neil to come back to him. He can always tell when Neil's internal racket quiets, can always feel the mitigation of tension, sometimes even actually hear the pop of joints un-locking from their rigor-pre-mortis. At this point he's always sure to make sure Neil has something small and real to zero in on. A stray thread in the shoulder of Todd's sweater, the contours of the muscles of the shoulder itself. More often than not, the distraction is Todd touching his mouth back to Neil's, just a light press, a tiny, specific point in the universe on which Neil can focus. A physical place to ground himself.

* * *

Just yet more headcanoning/drabbling for The Throstle, so sorry it's so unfocused! The title is from a quote from Stephen Fry about dealing with clinical depression, which has been infinitely helpful to me these last few months. This is totally one of those cases where I felt a burning need at one point to write Anderperry and then totally forgot about it for like MONTHS.


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